The Ballet

This blog entry is dedicated to two of the people I love and respect most on this earth; my sister Debbie and my Broman Gary. I love you both. Thanks for always taking such good care of me and for always keeping me entertained. (PS Don't forget Broman, it's called poetic license lol)

The journey of 1000 miles begins with....a hair-raising ride in my Broman's Exploder. It's the truth. It seems as if any time I start a long journey it begins in much the same way as no trip would be complete without a ride to the airport from my bro-in-law, accompanied by my sister in the front seat gripping the “oh shit handle” and wondering if we are gonna make it off the highway in one piece. You see, my brother-in-law is the poster child for road rage driving. He has the unique ability to make one shit in one's pants whilst laughing one's ass at the same time. The assortment of curse words, tempered with a wide variety of facial expressions and fist and/or finger waving are, in my mind, priceless. And, always expected when Gary is behind the wheel.

You see, usually I make my way to my sister's house in Ft Lauderdale on my own to begin most of my adventures but, on this rare occasion, my Sis and Broman came to scoop me up. And as such, the trip from St Augustine to Ft Lauderdale yesterday held all the fun of having tooth pulled with no novocaine. Similarities to the aforementioned car ride at the beginning of this story were apparent. But, on this occasion, I also became aware of the rather intricate ballet that ensues while my sister watches, and subsequently (whether he likes it or not) guides my Bro-man as he weaves his way in and out of traffic at an alarming rate of speed. Said ballet unfolds in perfect synchronicity. It is a thing of imperial beauty to watch the swan-like grace with which my sister moves her extremities like magic wands: pointing, waving, or steering as if the Exploder will ignore my Broman's commands and instead, magically read my sister’s body language and respond in kind. One can almost taste the look of consternation on Broman's face as he brakes just seconds later than Debbie would have preferred, as she jams her foot into her imaginary brake. And one can't help but chuckle under one's breath when the choice words of wisdom she offers up to Broman comes out of her diminutive self in such a way that you think there is a large, tattooed sailor in the Exploder all of a sudden. In all its glory and humor, this ballet of sorts unfolds before me, as I watch from the back seat in terrified amusement. I would like to say I would not give up the time I get to spend with these two as they make me laugh and keep me bemused and amused on the regular. That being said, I did find that the key to a successful road trip with these two is to keep one's iPod fully charged, your pillow fluffed, your head down, and your opinions...to yourself. 

And so it begins...